


Heartbeats

by kitausu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Kissing, M/M, Meet-Cute, Romantic Fluff, Sugar Daddy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-08-08 17:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16433450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitausu/pseuds/kitausu
Summary: Shiro, wealthy charming, seemingly terminally ill Shiro, gets a new heart, a new lease on life, and a new reason for living, all in the same night.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my WIP folder forever but I'm just really excited to finally get posting about this and I hope you all enjoy it, too!

It was another late night at the office for Shiro. Everyone but Keith had already long gone home to their families and friends and warm dinners not straight out of the microwave. But, Keith and Shiro were each other’s family, which meant they were still there together with Lean Cuisine stained napkins and all, even if his assistant _was_ currently asleep at his desk.

Shiro sighed, laughing to himself a little when he spotted Keith starting to drool onto the stacks of paper under his cheek. He had told Keith earlier he could go home, but even now he was still as stubborn as he had been when they were kids.

“Keith,” Shiro called, receiving only a grunt of recognition for his trouble.

Shiro sighed and stood, walking over to Keith’s desk on the other side of the room to try and shake him awake

Placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder, Shiro tried again, “Keith, come on.”

All he received was an angry swat as Keith turned his head away from Shiro and frowned into the curve of his own elbow. 

“Don’t complain to me when you have a crick in your neck,” Shiro chastised lightly, not really meaning a word of it.

Keith had been with Shiro since they were kids, following him to school and eventually working with him up the corporate ladder, and now practically living in their office. Shiro would honestly be lost without him, even if it currently didn’t look like it now that Keith reminded him more of the little boy who had followed him to football practice in middle school then the ruthless business man he was.

Realizing he wasn’t getting anywhere, Shiro pat Keith fondly on the shoulder. With a final pat, Shiro reach up to stroke Keith’s hair off his forehead before making to walk away. Except, when he turned back to his desk, Shiro finally started to notice something wrong. The lights were starting to blur, slowly, almost so slow Shiro didn’t notice. That was until they were blending together like streetlights on the road after rain, impossible to differentiate and obscuring everything in sight.

Stupidly, Shiro actually thought for a second that it was because he was tired. He always, somehow, managed to attribute his symptoms to something mundane, something everyone experienced. He never wanted to believe what it was. Who wanted to face that idea that their heart simply refused to do its damn job and always had?

-

Shiro didn’t remember much after that. When he woke up, he instantly hissed and rubbed at the raw spot where the carpet had left a slight burn along the line of his chin, a souvenir from when he had obviously fell. Vaguely, he recalled the mousey distant sound of Keith’s voice filtering through the cotton in his head and then nothing, uneasy darkness and nothing.

The sheets that he was currently swaddled in were, unfortunately, very familiar. And, even more unfortunately, not his own. The antiseptic smell of the hospital was just as familiar though, stabilizing if not comforting.

At the very least, he knew where he was and what had happened even if it wouldn’t be the last time he was sure.

Shiro tried to sit up, already looking around for Keith, who always refused to leave him alone right after an incident. He was surprised to find instead two long slim hands on his shoulder, gently guiding him back.

“Hey, no, no sitting up Mr. Shirogane,” the owner of said hands scolded.

They were beautiful, lovely, elegant hands. Shiro was surprised by how much they hurt when they accidentally brushed his chest. Hands that wonderful shouldn’t hurt.

“You need…wait,” Shiro slurred incomprehensibly, then frowned.

He didn’t normally slur after an episode. In fact, he usually felt fine, if not a little tired. Except now his chest felt irritated and bruised, like it was stretched much farther then it was ever intended to across the expanse of his ribs and chest. Shiro wanted to articulate this to her, to explain that something was wrong, but thoughts and words kept slip sliding away, smoke refusing to stay in his hold.

The voice that had spoken laughed, the insistent push of hands now turned to gentle caresses as Shiro cautiously settled down. “You’re really out of it, huh?”

Shiro wanted to nod and agree. He was _definitely_ out of it. In reality, he likely would have agreed to everything that voice, or any voice.

“Just rest, you’ve had a very invasive surgery,” A female voice said as hands fluffed the pillow propping Shiro up.

“Surgery?” Shiro asked through cotton in his mouth and brain.

The woman laughed, bright and carefree. “Yes, this is the first time you’ve been awake when I came by. I’m surprised your guard dog isn’t here.”

“Guard…dog?”

Shiro frowned, focusing more in front of him as the hands retracted and he was able to tell they were attached to a woman that could only be described as the epitome of motherly. She smiled at him even more, pretty blue eyes warm and caring, as Shiro squinted up at her, trying to understand.

The nurse fussed with his pillows again, leaning closer over him so that Shiro caught a homey scent that made him sigh. She reminded him a lot of his own mother as she hovered.

 “Mr. Shirogane? Do you know where you are?” The woman, the _nurse,_ because that’s who she was, asked gently.

Later, Shiro would wonder what made him say it. _Much_ later, sitting across from another pretty blue eyed beauty, he would know _exactly_ what it was. “You’re gorgeous, are you married?”

The woman laughed again, flushing pink even as she flashed her wedding ring at him.

“Yes, I am. And I’m probably 20 years older than you, too, Mr. Shirogane,” she chortled good naturedly.

“I know where I am,” Shiro agreed suddenly, slowly realizing what question she had asked, or that she had asked a question at all.

His brain was admittedly foggy and slow but not _that_ far gone.

He was in the hospital, the private wing he was always in when he had an episode. His heart had never wanted to be a heart, not well anyway, so he frequently found himself here. Although this woman, gorgeous as she was, was not his normal nurse, let alone his doctor.

“Are you wondering where Dr. Nimoy is?” the nurse asked, catching Shiro glancing around slowly. “He’ll be in soon. I’m Nurse McClain.”

Shiro knew that. Dr. Nimoy had agreed to take on a new cardiac nurse for his private wing, Shiro had even agreed to have her added onto his care team. Even though he was thinking through molasses, the face was starting to look more familiar. One of the best cardiac nurses Nimoy had seen in years, under paid, underappreciated at her old job, yeah, Shiro remembered her now.

The underappreciated bit had been thrown in for Shiro’s benefit, actually. Nimoy knew he had a soft spot for people struggling to achieve something and wanted to make sure Shiro agreed. He was notoriously picky about his team, but Nimoy could play Shiro like a fiddle. It came with the territory of treating him for so long.

 And yet, looking at his new nurse as she glanced over Shiro’s chart, Shiro found he would have agreed either way. Something about her made Shiro feel warm in a way he hadn’t since his own mother had passed.

“What surgery?” Shiro suddenly asked, and Nurse McClain glanced up with a smile.

“We found you a heart,” she admitted, her eyes flickering down to Shiro’s chest that he was only now starting to realize was heavily bandaged and starting to hurt tremendously.

“A…a heart?” Shiro whispered, an promptly, embarrassingly, passed out.

-

It was a long while before Shiro could make himself believe what Nurse McClain had said. He had spent his whole life with this hanging over his head, just as it had hung over his mother’s. To think that it was gone? That he wasn’t racing a clock anymore? It simply didn’t compute.

Keith, predictably, had been ecstatic, even chastising when Shiro told him his concerns.

“You’re healthy now, Shiro. _Enjoy it,_ ” Keith had groaned, punching Shiro lightly in the shoulder when he opened his mouth to protest.

“ _Nope!_ Don’t argue. Be _happy,_ you nerd.”

Shiro snorted, wincing when it made him jolt in pain.

“Don’t make me laugh,” Shiro complained, teasingly.

“Well, don’t be stupid,” Keith sniffed.

-

The thing about heart surgery was that, unsurprisingly, the recovery time was _long._ And as nice as Shiro’s private room was, he was ready to go home, to his bed and his kitchen and his cat that was currently most likely terrorizing Keith.

Weeks into his stay, he was having a hard time sleeping anymore. Hospitals were also fairly boring, and Keith was refusing to bring him work or let him do anything but rest and all his other workers were too afraid of Keith to go behind his back.

So here he was, without work for the first time in years, and hating every second of it.

It was yet another late, sleepless night when Shiro finally decided enough was enough. He wasn’t technically supposed to get up on his own still, but even Keith thought it was a little over precautious at this point.

So, Shiro swung his legs as silently as possible over the side of the bed and stood, using the rolling stand with the bag of fluids to brace himself. He felt a twinge in his chest, his head swimming a little from the medication, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Besides, although Shiro wasn’t sure what time it was, the hospital had quieted down significantly, or at least enough for him to sneak out of the room and wander the halls hopefully without interruption.  And he wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity to actually walk around on his own terms.

The hallway was chilly when Shiro finally stepped out into the hall. One of the perks of being wealthy and a well…for lack of a better term, a regular, was that he got to wear the soft pajama pants and tops he kept in his room instead of the open backed nightgowns of outpatients. A rare “privilege” of being sick he guessed.

As he continued to move slowly through the hall, Shiro frowned as his head spun a little more, cotton making his thoughts fuzzy and unwieldly. They had given him something to help him sleep but it hadn’t kicked in just yet and Shiro was convinced it never would despite all the evidence to the contrary.

Even as he walked further away from his room, Shiro was surprised by the fact that there really was almost no one in the halls beside him. It took several minutes for Shiro to finally hear voices from the nurse’s station. Shiro knew, logically, that he should walk the other way and avoid being seen. But there was a voice Shiro didn’t recognize, a warm male voice that called to Shiro unlike anything ever had before.

The nurse’s station wasn’t far off by now, so Shiro followed the voice until he suddenly turned the last corner and saw him.

There was a boy, well…a _man_ , standing there, his brown hair visibly soft and curling around his ears even at a distance. Shiro watched, transfixed, as the man threw his head back and laughed, passing a brown paper sack across the counter to Nurse McClain

“Lance, you’re the sweetest boy,” one of the other nurses cooed, leaning around Nurse McClain to pat his hand sweetly.

_Lance._

Shiro could feel his heart pounding, harder then he knew it was supposed to so close to although he couldn’t see, to remember why. He knew he was supposed to remain calm and collected and not exert himself for…some reason…except Shiro could see the lean line of _Lance’s_ body through what was obviously a thin sleep shirt, his pajama pants slung low on his hips and Shiro was enthralled.

Moving without thinking, Shiro found that the closer he got the more he could see a faint line of freckles crawling up the side of Lance’s neck and across his cheeks. He was a vision, an absolute vision, everything turning fuzzy around Lance like a halo.

And Shiro was warm and heavy in the power of it. He was going to call out to Lance, he was, he was going to tell him all of this, this vision that had come to him in the night…when, unexpectedly, he found the floor was a lot closer then had been before and then he knew nothing at all.

-

When Shiro woke up the second time, he was infinitely more lucid then he had been after his surgery, although he did have a fresh set of bruises on his knees that he would be feeling for a while. In fact, he was painfully lucid and fully aware of how much of an ass he had made of himself hopped up on pain meds and sleeping pills and would have taken sleep any day.

Shiro groaned, rubbing his hands roughly over his face. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah, but, a cute idiot, to be fair,” A voice defended on a laugh.

Shiro turned, startled to see the man from the night before sitting beside him, his head propped in his hand as he sat in the chair next to Shiro’s bed.

“I…” Shiro blinked, trying to clear his vision.

Was he still asleep? He rubbed his eyes again, but when he opened them, Lance was still there, smiling at him with those pretty blue eyes that were suddenly painfully familiar.

Shiro wondered if all the McClain family had the power to render Shiro an absolute idiot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy this! Thank you all for the wonderful feedback, I was blown away!

-2-

_Shiro didn’t know where he was at first. The hospital looked different, older but…but he had—_

_“Takashi!” a voice snapped, fear slithering down Shiro’s spine in a conditioned response that Shiro couldn’t understand._

_He wasn’t alive. There was no way he was there except he was, looming larger then life over Shiro as he always had, disapproving of Shiro even from the beginning. Even as a child Shiro had known he was different, and had known better then to let his father know, but somehow he always had and had always hated him for it._

_Even at the end of his father’s life, and Shiro full grown and at school, his father had had this effect on him._

_Shiro startled when his dad charged down the hallway, towering over him as he moved closer. He hadn’t literally towered over Shiro since before his growth spirt at 13 and yet here he was and Shiro felt smaller then ever._

_Rough hands grabbed Shiro’s arm, the arm that hadn’t been there for nearly 10 years, jerking him down the hall. “Your mother wants to see you.”_

_Shiro was going to stumble any minute, his little legs unable to keep up. But, with the door looming closer, he almost wanted to. He didn’t want to go through the door, he wanted to fall through the floor, he didn’t want to see it, her, laying there dying dying dying._

_“Move it!” Shiro’s dad snarled, yanking Shiro closer and closer._

_For a second, Shiro thought about flinging himself to the floor, but he knew it would only make his dad angrier. Tears of embarrassment and fear were stinging Shiro’s eyes; they were only a few feet away and he couldn’t do it._

_“I don’t—”_

_A foot now._

_“I_ don’t— _”_

“Shiro. Shiro! Wake up!”

When Shiro opened his eyes, Keith was standing over him, his mouth all twisted up in concern, looking half angry but Shiro knows it was just fear.

“Keith?” Shiro rasped.

He looked frantically around the room, confused by the acrid smell of his dreams and the memory of death combined with the clean fragrance of his hospital room and the flowers by his bed. Keith’s hands pushed him back before Shiro even knew he was trying to sit up.

“Nightmare?”

“What are you doing here?” Shiro asked, deflecting the question, just as Keith likely knew he would.

“Checking on you, idiot,” Keith frowned, settling back into his chair once he was sure Shiro wouldn’t try to get up.

There was a fresh glass of water by Shiro’s bed that he reached for gratefully. His mouth was sandpaper dry, the water barely helping even as he drained the glass.

Trying to distract them both, Keith focused on Shiro’s bedside table. “Who brought the flowers?”

Confused, Shiro turned to look at the fresh daisies that hadn’t been there the night before. “What? You didn’t…”

Keith laughed, reaching for the card as he teased, “Shiro has a secret admirer?”

Shiro rolled his eyes, grateful to be made fun of as long as he didn’t have to talk or even think about…that dream.

_Get well soon, and remember, no more night time strolls on drugs! – Lance_

“Who’s Lance?” Keith frowned.

“What?” Shiro gaped, snatching up the card when Keith flashed the note at him to see.

“Wait, what _night time stroll?_ ” Keith pressed in agitation, trying to catch Shiro’s eye.

“ _Shiro,_ the doctor _told you_ not to walk on your own yet. I can’t believe this!” Keith railed.

He was waving his hands around in irritation but Shiro barely registered it. Lance had brought him flowers and left him a note even after all of that…

“Shiro, are you going to answer me?”

Shiro nodded, finally setting the card in his lap with a rueful smile. “I maybe went for a walk on drugs one night and maybe met my nurse’s son and maybe…fell flat on the floor at his feet because of said drugs and maybe…when I woke up he was here and I asked him to come see me sometime when I wasn’t as drugged up…maybe…” Shiro finished lamely.

He could see Keith working up to a tirade but all that came out was a flat, “Maybe.”

“Maybe,” Shiro confirmed.

 Keith ran has hands roughly over his face and into his hair, forcing it to stand up on end. He was wearing a suit so he was probably on his way to work but right now he looked anything but the stern and put together man he always was when he walked through those lobby doors.

“How is everything?” Shiro tried, already anticipating Keith’s irritated look.

“Everything is fine. Just _rest._ You’re not running against a clock anymore, Shiro.”

There wasn’t anything Shiro could say to that so he just shrugged. “You can’t blame me for trying.”

“I can and I will. But I have to go,” Keith sighed, standing up as he did.

Shiro reached out demanding a hug that Keith gave without hesitation.

“You’re a good friend, Keith.”

“And an even better employee,” Keith finished out with a laugh as he pulled away from Shiro’s embrace.

“You know that…” Shiro started to protest but Keith held up his hand.

“I know, Shiro. Now I have to go,” Keith smiled easily at him before turning and walking out the door.

-

It was the first day in a while that Shiro had managed to stay awake the full day, worrying at his phone and beating more levels of Tetris then could reasonably be anything but embarrassing. There was a dull ache in his knees and chest, a side-effect of the fall from a few days ago.

“You really could have hurt yourself,” Nurse McClain chided later when she came in that evening to give Shiro something for the pain and to help him sleep.

“No walking around!” She teased as she injected the drugs into the IV.

“You’ve been talking to your son, I guess.”

She only shrugged, a sly smile on her lips as Shiro felt the rush of heaviness through his bones that always accompanied the drugs. He hated being on them, feeling like a weighted blanket was trapping him to the bed. But he had to admit he wouldn’t sleep otherwise and they had all already seen how great he was at self-control when he was restless.

Shiro should have known something was up when Nurse McClain patted his knee as she walked out, Lance walking in just seconds later.

“You planned this,” Shiro frowned, accusing him without really knowing why.

“I swear I didn’t, Takashi,” Lance smiled, innocently enough that Shiro did believe him.

“I would much rather be here when you weren’t high on meds, Takashi, but school and life,” Lance shrugged, something mischievous now there as he saw Shiro catch on to what he was saying.  

He had looked at Shiro’s chart, at the very least his name.

“It wasn’t fair that you knew who I was and I didn’t know who you were!” Lance defended, still smiling as he took the seat by Shiro’s bed.

There was something there, something significant that even the drugs couldn’t make him forget. Lance didn’t know who he was. Lance didn’t know CEO Takashi Shirogane, called Shiro by anyone who knew him, and CEO by anyone who didn’t. And why would he? Lance had said he went to school. Why would a broke college kid watch the financial report where Shiro’s name was frequently splashed and maligned?  

“You’re right, it wasn’t fair. Besides better my name then dumb guy who fell at your feet,” Shiro laughed, his words a little incoherent as the drugs really started to catch up with him.

“I never thought that,” Lance whispered, watching as Shiro’s eyelids grew heavy.

Shiro could feel everything dragging him under, falling under the ocean waves of sleep, wanting to take him out of consciousness. But he needed to say something, something important if he could just… _remember._ Shiro struggled to sit up, thinking it would clear his head, only to find himself listing heavily to the side.

“Woah woah!” Lance jumped up, bracing Shiro’s weight against his chest with an arm around Shiro’s shoulders.

“I’m usually more…suave…then this,” Shiro frowned, trying and failing not to put so much of his weight on Lance’s slender shoulders.

“I’m sure you are,” Lance barked a laugh, pushing him back towards the center of the bed.

“Baby, I can prove it to you,” Shiro slurred as the world spun a little.

“Baby? Maybe you should take me to dinner first!” Lance joked, more focused on settling Shiro back against the pillows than anything else.

“Yes, dinner!” Shiro agreed trying to sit up again only to have Lance gently push him back.

He was bigger then Lance, it shouldn’t have been that easy, Shiro was sure. But he felt kitten weak and frustrated with it, too.  He was falling asleep when all he wanted to do was the exact opposite.

 “Come back tomorrow morning, when I’m awake?” Shiro pouted, using every ounce of strength he had to force the words out.

If Shiro had been more awake, if his eyes had even been opened, he would have seen how helplessly charmed Lance looked, one hand gently brushing through Shiro’s fringe before tucking him in.

“Okay, big guy, I’ll come back tomorrow.”

-

When Shiro woke up the next morning it was to a serious case of déjà vu. Lance was sitting beside his bed again, except this time he had a bag full of breakfast take away and two big steaming Styrofoam cups of coffee.

“Mama told me you can have coffee now,” Lance grinned, offering the cup to Shiro who gratefully accepted it and downed half of it in a few gulps.

“Good morning to you, too!” Lance giggled, sipping his own drink much more slowly.

After a few moments of silence, Lance finally sat his cup down on the side table. “Pancakes?”

“God, you really are an angel,” Shiro laughed.

Lance flushed pink as he reached for the bag at his feet. “Are you on drugs again?”

“Nope. Wide awake, in a little pain, and really happy to wake up to you.”

“Oh my gosh, are you just _like this_?” Lance groaned, putting the bag back down at his feet so he could hide his face in his hands in embarrassment.

“Not normally, but I guess you bring it out in me.”

And it was true, Shiro _wasn’t_ normally like this. He didn’t even typically talk to people who weren’t Keith or the Holts unless he had to for work. But…but Lance had helped him back to his room and brought him flowers and came back when he said he would and well…Shiro had never believed in love at first sight but if he had, this was probably what it was like.

Shiro decided to let up a little, sitting patiently as Lance finally unpacked the pancakes he had picked up for them. When Lance handed him his, there was a little “dairy free” sticker on Shiro’s box that surprised him.

“How did you…”

Lance flushed, ducking his head a little. “I…uh…read your chart, remember?”

“Lance,” Shiro waited for Lance to look up, to see him smiling. “Thank you.”

And that _blush,_ God Shiro really was in love, or well…smitten at least. He remembered Lance being so much bolder at night but this, this was a dream. 

They ate in a comfortable silence for a while, Shiro watching curiously as Lance doused his pancakes liberally with three little cups of syrup he had clearly picked up just for the purpose.

“You know, I won’t hold you to it,” Lance tried to tease, but Shiro could hear how his tone went a little sour as he spoke.

Shiro didn’t need to ask what he meant though. He remembered exactly what he had said right before falling asleep the night before. “No, I want you to. Hold me to it, that is.”

Lance’s cheeks went ruddy as he stared down at the breakfast perched in his lap. “Okay, I will.”

They didn’t say any more about it, chatting about other things for a while. Shiro mopped up his own syrup with his remaining cakes as Lance told him he was a medical student in his first year, and that he was broke and busy and with trying to hold down a job, “But I love it, you know. I love helping people.”

And Shiro could see in the way Lance’s eyes shown as he explained it all that he really did.

“I’m just a boring business man. 9-5er,” Shiro waved him off when Lance asked about his own life.

He didn’t want to talk about that. He wanted to talk about Lance, and how he helped a little girl with a skinned knee at the park when he was 15 and that sealed the deal for him.

“Speaking of, I have to get to class but…” Lance hesitated, biting his lip as he stood up to gather their trash.

“Can I have your number?” Shiro smiled up at Lance, seeing he had hit the nail right on the head.

“Yes, yes of course,” Lance agreed quickly, fishing around in the bag for a clean napkin to write it down on.

After Lance left, Shiro looked down at the thin napkin clutched in his hand and grinned helplessly when he saw the little heart Lance had drawn by his name.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for bearing with me on the wait! PhD programs are not conducive for writing fic, I'll tell you that. But this story is so fun and cathartic for me so I have 0 plans to drop it. Also, you may be able to tell the "sugar daddy" part of this is coming soon >.>
> 
> Thank you all for all of the wonderful feedback! I am just blown away by the response and I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

Shiro smelled the tacos before he saw Lance, the spicy salsa scent making his mouth water as it wafted through the door. For a second, it masked the antiseptic hospital smell that had started to become so normal Shiro thought he had almost stopped smelling it all together.

The time spent at the hospital had been hours, days, eons, of white washed walls and jeopardy Netflix reruns Shiro couldn’t bring himself to stop watching. All signs pointed to how restless he should have been, nearly about to jitter out of his own skin if history had any say in it. And yet, Shiro found himself dreading it, the idea of putting on his regular clothes and shoes and walking out the door.

He was healthy, well, what passed for healthy in his case. He should be glad to see the back of this place and never set foot in a hospital again if he could help it. And yet…and _yet…_ there was a hesitancy there surrounding the idea, making Shiro shy away from the thought of heading home. And there was no mistaking what the cause was. It would take an idiot not to see it, and Shiro often forgot how rarely he was surrounded by idiots.  

But, Shiro shook the twinge of uncertainty out of his thoughts, now wasn’t the time. No, he couldn’t think about it when he could hear the sound of Lance’s footsteps coming down the hall.

At last, Lance’s curly head came into view, his grin already in place when he caught sight of Shiro sitting up against a pile of pillows and fully dressed in his own pajamas. “I’m taking mama’s lunch first, then I’ll be right back.”

He was out the door again before Shiro could say a word, but the smell lingered, Lance’s cologne faint under the greasy scent of refried beans. Both were things that tempted Shiro, things he hadn’t been allowed in the past, and yet…here at the time when Shiro had been sure was the end of his life, everything he had ever wanted suddenly looked a lot closer than before, beans and all.

Shiro figured Lance would get a kick out of it, if Shiro ever worked up the courage to tell him something so embarrassing.

At the very least it he could be thankful that if he _did_ ever have to embarrass himself in front of Lance again, it would be with his ass fully covered by his own pants and not an open backed gown with ties that did absolutely nothing and pants so thin they weren’t worth a dime. The hospital at long last had let him ditch the gown a few days ago, Nurse McClain’s calm hands helping him slip into the old 80s Voltron Tee and black sweats that Keith had brought by before work.

“You know, my son loved that show as a kid,” Mama McClain had grinned, smoothing her hands lightly over Shiro’ bandages through the shirt, checking for any signs of pain or distress.

“Oh, did he?” Shiro asked, not bothering to hide his interest.

He had liked the idea of little Lance in front of the TV, eagerly pressing his hands to the staticky screen and oohing over the giant robots and flashy battle scenes as the colors reflected in his blue eyes.

Lance had arrived not long after that, cutting off any reply Nurse McClain might have made. Shiro still caught the wink she sent him as Lance settled in and unpacked the Thai curry from the family-run place down the street of the hospital, little paper boxes littering the side table and the space between Shiro’s legs faster then he could blink.  

The memory was still fresh in Shiro’s mind when Lance came back, noticeably one bag lighter.

“Tacos?” Lance offered, holding the remaining take out up for Shiro to see.

“Yes, please,” Shiro grinned back helplessly as Lance settled in at what was now his usual place at Shiro’s bedside.

The linoleum creaked loudly as Lance got comfortable in the chair after distributing the food, although Shiro suddenly found it impossible to look anywhere but at his own lap. He wanted to enjoy this moment, but all he could think about was that he was leaving soon, that he was taking up Lance’s time. There was the sickening question, too: what if this was charity? Shiro had been the recipient of enough charity in his life and _yet…_

 “Something wrong?” Lance’s voice seemed distant in Shiro’s ear.

Shiro must have appeared hyper focused on unwrapping the first of the tacos from the bag, his eyes zeroed in on where the cook had double folded the aluminum and it was thick in Shiro’s hands.

He didn’t want to voice any of it, but there was this and there was reality and there were just some things Shiro needed to know, to push at, to find the answer to. It was why he was as successful…and why he was so alone he figured.

“You know, I think I’m shooting myself in the foot here, but,” Shiro cleared his throat.  “you don’t have to come by…every day.” He winced as seemingly someone else’s voice spoke from his lips, already regretting that he had brought it up, that he was like this.

“Do you want me to come less?” Lance asked after a pause, putting on a fake pout but Shiro could see the sincere concern, the hint of rejection that Lance was so clearly trying not to show.

“No, no, _no,”_ Shiro shook his head, nearly dislodging the salsa cup balanced on his knee.  

Lance stopped, watching Shiro thoughtfully as if waiting for him to say more but none came. Maybe he could tell Shiro really was internally kicking himself, trying to find a way to fix his own big mouth. Shiro wasn’t used to feeling pathetic.

 “I’ll keep coming then,” Lance said, his mouth quirking up into a shy smile. “Although, a little mama bird told me that you are getting out soon.”  

There was an overwhelming sense of relief, of release, at those words. Shiro hadn’t known what he had expected, that Lance would call him a charity case? Say he was doing his mama a favor? But no, in the past few weeks he had known Lance, it hadn’t felt that way.

It had felt, as much as Shiro hated to name it, like the very beginnings of something he could have. But, Shiro didn’t want to think about that, not just yet. Instead he nodded, smiling his own shy smile at Lance as he offered him a little dixie cup of guacamole from the bag on the bed between them. “I’m glad to hear it.”

-

The next few days were blissfully marked by more of the same, slowly dragging on so Shiro wouldn’t have to think of the end. There was more changing of bandages, Keith pestering him to rest, and Lance, although not nearly enough Lance.  

Keith eventually did bring him files from work as a form of distraction, although there wasn’t much new to see: greedy board members, sales reports, etc. Shiro _did_ find an unusual report at the bottom of the stack titled oddly enough: _Garbage._ Shiro snorted in delight when, just below the fancy company logo, he saw the phrase “According to Shirley…” and knew immediately that it was full of the gossip from the water cooler that Keith must have begrudgingly gathered because he knew Shiro loved it.

“Oh, they got engaged, huh?” Shiro had asked, avidly reading the report on the head of Marketing’s love life more thoroughly then he had anything else Keith had brought.

Keith grunted, fishing out a leftover Reese’s from Shiro’s bedside table that Lance must have left there.  “Don’t get me involved.” Keith had known he would get to the rest in his own time and didn’t push him to read the packet marked _urgent_.  

And that was how Shiro spent his time, his dwindling time. But it eventually came to an end, more quickly than Shiro would have liked, as bizarre as it was. Before he knew it, Shiro was frowning at the mirror in his hospital room as he slowly buttoned up the white dress shirt Keith had brought him, getting ready to go home. The bandages were still thick across his chest, disappearing slowly as Shiro’s fingers moved up his shirt until it was almost as if they were never there at all.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Keith called, purposefully breaking Shiro out of his thoughts.

He had kicked up on Shiro’s bed, looking a little incongruous in his Hugo Boss and the mess of hospital sheets. Keith was grinning though, clearly pleased to be breaking Shiro out of the hospital, happy enough for the both of them.

“You’re better then a cliché,” Shiro chided, turning around and searching for the beat-up cable knit sweater he normally wore around the house.

“Yeah well,” Keith shrugged, swinging his legs off the bed so his shoes scuffed the ground when he stood abruptly. “Your chariot awaits.”

Shiro frowned, turning around to find the wheelchair Keith was gesturing too sitting innocuously in the corner of the room, waiting for Shiro to settle in.

“I can walk,” Shiro defended, already moving towards the door.

Keith started after him, nearly bumping into him when Shiro stopped short. “Shiro—"

“Lance—”

Lance’s arms were folded over his chest, one eyebrow raised expectantly where he had seemingly materialized in the doorway. “And where do you think you’re going?”

 “Lance,” Shiro repeated, grinning as he reached automatically for him now that he could on his own volition.

Surprised, Lance allowed himself to be pulled pliantly into a hug, his hands going automatically to Shiro’s back before remembering himself.

“Takashi, your chest…” Lance started, trying to hold himself away.

“It’s fine.” Shiro murmured, holding Lance a little tighter before stepping away.

They had never hugged like this, never really touched beyond Lance supporting his drugged-up ass back to bed. But Shiro couldn’t help himself, not now. He could see Lance had a million questions on the tip of his tongue, and was ready to answer them all. But instead, his eyes flickered over Shiro’s shoulder to where Keith was standing a few feet away.

“I came to pick you up and drive you home but…”

When Shiro finally turned around, Keith was watching them both with a mixture of fondness and exasperation that Shiro had grown used to over the years.

“Oh, yeah this is Keith,” Shiro moved back, reaching for Keith’s arm to pull him over to Lance.

“Oh….of course…you’ve mentioned…I remember…of course you have someone already here,” Lance laughed self-consciously, the sound bitter and strange in the space of the hospital room.

“Shiro’s mentioned you, too,” Keith smirked, no doubt thinking of _all_ the times Shiro had mentioned Lance, high on drugs and too doped up to filter himself.

“Shiro?” Lance frowned, looking between them as bitterness turned quickly to embarrassment and red flared up full force in Lance’s cheeks.

“Oh, yeah, that’s just what friends call me, I…Lance?” Shiro’s eyes widened as Lance started to back out of the door.  

“Wow, I’m stupid,” Lance grinned, or well, tried to. His mouth was all twisted up and something had clearly gone wrong and Shiro was panicking.

“Wait, Lance,” Shiro grabbed at him, wincing when he moved too quickly in his haste and pulled his wounds.

“Ah,” Shiro hissed, retracting suddenly as the pain made him recoil and hunch in on himself.

Keith started forward, “Shiro!”

“Takashi,” Lance chided, momentarily broken out of whatever had upset him, already moving to support Shiro.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Shiro assured, although he didn’t try to move away from Lance’s arm around his back.  

Lance was so close now, Shiro could look down and stare directly into his eyes. As pretty and blue as they were, it wasn’t exactly a hardship for Shiro to do so. He could look at them forever actually, and maybe even would have if not for the surprised noise Keith made behind them.

When Shiro and Lance looked at Keith though he was holding his phone awkwardly in front of his face, a dramatic and unfamiliar frown on his lips.

“Oh…oh no, I have a uh…surprise meeting?” Keith winced, his eyes flickering uncertainly between Shiro and the phone in his hand.

Keith was, and always had been, a terrible liar.

“Lance, right? Could you take Shiro home for me? I don’t mean to impose but…” Shiro could very clearly see the dark screen of Keith’s phone now, the uncomfortable scrunch of his nose reflected on the surface.  

“Oh! No, of course I don’t mind.” Lance sounded suddenly drastically more cheerful and when Shiro glanced down, his cheeks had warmed to the prettiest shade of carnation pink.

It wasn’t that Shiro had ever really questioned why he and Keith had been so close all their lives, but it was moments like this, where Keith could read him better then anyone, that reminded Shiro anyway. He waited until Keith was walking past them before reaching out to touch his arm.

“I’ll call you later.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but he nodded as he walked out the door, leaving Shiro and Lance behind.

They were still standing there, bodies touching in so many places, when Shiro finally sighed and looked down at Lance again. “So, no food today?”

“Oh, shut up,” Lance giggled.

Shiro noted that Lance didn’t move away either and he was glad for it.

-

It wasn’t a long drive to Shiro’s apartment, the location conveniently located both to the hospital and to the office. In all honesty, if Shiro had been up to full capacity he could have jogged home, but he doubted Lance (or Keith) would have let him walk even to the bathroom alone.

“Ready?”

Shiro nodded, reluctantly pulling away from Lance and stepping over to the bag Keith had helped him pack sitting on the bed.

“I’ll get that!” Lance darted in front of Shiro, blocking him from grabbing the handle. “Just get into the wheelchair.”

“Lance—”

“No, nope, nu uh mister. My mama would kill me if I broke hospital policy and let you walk out of here.” Lance shook his head violently.

Licking his lips, Shiro sighed, long and put-upon. “I guess I can’t say no to you.”

“That’s right!” Lance watched him closely as Shiro dutifully shuffled over to the hospital issued wheel chair.

Shiro thrust his hands out in supplication as he sat. “Happy now?”

Lance grinned, “Ecstatic.”

-

The parking spot that Lance directed Shiro to was somehow both surprising and not surprising at all.

“It’s a little beat up…” Lance started but Shiro waved him off.

The old school baby blue VW bug was so Lance the grin on Shiro’s face actually hurt. “It’s adorable.” Just like the pretty flush Shiro kept managing to bring to Lance’s skin.

There was a crowd of people outside the garage, although they barely gave Lance and Shiro a glance as they drove.

“Wonder what that’s about?” Lance murmured, biting his lip as he concentrated on not hitting anyone of the numerous reporters blocking the road.

Shiro licked his lips, trying his best to duck down just a bit without drawing attention. “No idea.”

Lance wasn’t looking his way, too busy concentrating on the road, but Shiro felt a twinge of guilt at the lie anyway. He would have to come clean sooner or later, it just wasn’t the time.

-

For the first time, Shiro regretted how closely he lived to the hospital. It was too short of a drive and Shiro barely found the time to start a conversation before he was telling Lance to _turn here_ into the parking garage.

“Lance I—"

“Takash—”

They both stopped, Shiro grinning as he watched Lance duck his head a little.

“You go,” Lance mumbled, inspecting the beds of his own fingernails.

Shiro didn’t hesitate before he spoke, “Can I see you again?”

Lance’s head jerked up, eyes doe wide. “Wh-what?”

“Can I see you again?” Shiro repeated, holding Lance’s gaze as he spoke.

“I…yes?” Lance swallowed, firming up his voice, “Yes. Please.”

The sun was warm where it hit Shiro’s skin through the filter of the car window but his whole body felt hot. He was grateful for every second, minute, hour, day that let him have things he never thought he could have and that included plucking Lance’s phone out of the cupholder and plugging Shiro’s own number in.

“Call me soon,” Shiro murmured, pressing the phone into the palm of Lance’s slack hand.

There was so much more Shiro wanted to do, but he held back, smiling at Lance instead as he got out of the car. When he reached the elevator and turned back, Lance was still sitting there, his hands over his face. Shiro could tell even from this distance that the tips of his ears were still pink.

-

When Lance got home from class that night he could hear the news playing in the living room. The weather report was finishing up, and he waited for the sound to click off as he heard the reporter start to say “And now for the DOW,” except the sound played on.

He would have thought that his mama had fallen asleep in front of the TV, not an unusual occurrence, except he could hear her scoff and the channel change to a different financial report.

_CEO Shirogane was released from the hospital this morning after recovering from a heart transplant._

And the thing was, Lance probably would have felt embarrassed if he had seen the knowing smirk on his mama’s face when he bolted into the room. Except he couldn’t see anything but the photo of Takashi on the screen, his face set in that neutral expression you see in all corporate stock photos. He looked…different, although Lance could still make out the laugh lines around his eyes.  

“Mama, isn’t that your patient?” Lance asked, his voice faint to his own ears.

She hummed, watching the screen with a fond smile as the news anchor relayed the good news that CEO Takashi Shirogane of Black Lion Inc. was recovering nicely from his heart surgery and was just released from the hospital into the care of his assistant and CFO Keith Kogane.

The screen showed Keith walking into the hospital, a sneer on his lips as he caught sight of the camera directed his way.

_Although we were unable to catch sight of Mr. Shirogane leaving the hospital, sources have confirmed that he was discharged._

Lance breathed out a loud whooshing sound as he remembered the crush of cars and cameras as he and Shiro left the parking lot that morning, “Oh.”

“I like this caster better, the others ones are,” Mama McClain hmphed, not finishing her sentence and sending Lance’s blood pressure rising.

“They’re what, mama?” Lance pressed.

She turned, smirking at him suddenly. “Why?”

“N-no reason…”

Mama McClain laughed, but obligingly turned the channel to a different news station, Shiro’s face on the screen again. This time though the tone was different, the photo they had picked not a stock photo from the website, but Shiro gazing remotely out from a podium as he spoke soundlessly to a sea of reporters.

“Notoriously cold CEO Takashi Shirogane has found a heart,” read the screen as the newscaster reported the same, that Shiro had been released except…

“CEO Shirogane has a history of hating the press and filing lawsuits left and right. Maybe the new heart will give him a _change_ of heart and he can learn to be a human being.”

Lance frowned, startled by the harsh words.

“You see what I mean?” Mama McClain grumped, flipping the channel back.

Takashi wasn’t on the screen any more, the newscast having moved on to a different story, the newscaster brightly reporting on adoption day down at the animal shelter, not that Lance heard any of it. His hand felt sweaty where it clutched his phone, the same phone that Takashi had just so casually programmed his number into.

There wasn’t much to say, but Lance still found his mouth opening around a soft, “Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @hardlynotnever on tumblr drew a piece for this and I DIED so if you guys have not seen it yet, please go check it out! 
> 
> https://hardlynotnever.tumblr.com/post/180228774395/30-days-of-thanks-day-17-heartbeats-by-kitausu


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had really planned to get more into the "plot" but then I just got carried away writing them being goofy and crushing on each other. Also...heith next chapter?? More likely then you think!

Not even 24 hours after leaving Lance, Shiro regretted _giving_ his number instead of _getting_ Lance’s. It was a waiting game now and Shiro had never been particularly good at that. He was used to being a man of action, being in charge, as terrible as that sounded. It made him want to crawl a little out of his skin that he wanted to do something and was completely powerless to see it through.

It was after about the 127th time checking his phone to no avail, that Shiro gave up. Not on waiting on Lance, that wasn’t an option, at least not yet. But, he couldn’t just sit here. If he did he was likely going to die, which would have been a shame given the recent good news about his heart. (A joke Keith probably wouldn’t have found funny but Shiro sure did).  

For a second, Shiro considered being really difficult. He knew for a fact that Keith was going to try to stop him from coming into the office, and even worse, that Keith would throw a fit if he showed up in the Bugatti or worse, the Hennessey Venom. But, as much as he loved to tease Keith, and Keith loved to get back at him, he had a feeling this would be pushing it a little too far.

Shiro knew he was walking a fine line with his best friend, that Keith would only let him push the bounds so far before it was too much and he never wanted to be the one to push Keith that far. So, when he went to the garage, he walked straight to the far end.

The Audi was safe, dependable, and most importantly, Keith approved.

The interior of the car was musty though, like one that had been sitting in an airport parking lot for way too long. Shiro frowned as he settled into the seat and attempted to twits the key in the ignition only for it to simply sputter and die, the engine refusing point blank to turn over. Shiro laughed quietly to himself. In reality, he couldn’t remember the last time he had driven this car. There was something about being near death that had given Shiro a taste for fast cars and the Audi didn’t exactly fit that bill.

Shiro really was going to have to take the Bugatti and face Keith’s wrath until he remembered the Tesla. It was a gift for Keith really, but Keith had soundly refused it, preferring his old BMW from school that broke down twice a week (and no, Keith didn’t see the irony there).

Keith frequently just yelled “It’s lucky,” at Shiro when he tried to get him to sell it…or scrap it for parts in the same breath that he yelled at him for speeding. So, the Tesla just sat in Shiro’s garage until Keith’s car finally gave up the ghost and left him permanently stranded.

The Tesla, thankfully, did start right away, the ignition smooth and effortless. It hadn’t been in the garage nearly as long as the Audi and Shiro said a silent prayer of thanks that Keith was so damn stubborn.

When the garage door opened, Shiro looked over his shoulder, wincing a little as the stitches pulled. Despite that though, it felt good to be independent for the first time in a while. Just driving to the gate of his complex was a small accomplishment on its own.

It was a short drive to his company’s building from where Shiro lived, and it wasn’t long before he was waving at the guard at the gate who was, unfortunately, clearly stifling a laugh as he let Shiro through. It seemed everyone knew Shiro wasn’t supposed to be there but no one seemed ready to stop him. That was firmly in Keith’s jurisdiction.

Shiro parked in his designated spot right up front and managed to find a real grin as he walked into the building for the first time since his surgery. Now that he was here, he was itching to work, to do _something_ that wasn’t sitting around, waiting for Lance to call.  

“Good morning, Mr. Shirogane,” various workers waved at him and he nodded as they passed by.

“Good morning, good morning,” Shiro waved back, grinning even wider as the receptionist’s son came toddling out from behind the lobby desk straight for him.  

“Ah, no, _Ollie!_ ” the receptionist, Nick, cried, stopping when he saw Shiro grabbing the little boy and holding his hands.

Normally, Shiro would have swung him up into his arms, but remembered at the last minute that would probably have been a bad idea, so instead he kneeled.

“Mr. Shirogane, I’m so sorr—”

“It’s alright,” Shiro grinned, swinging the little boy’s hands between them.

Ollie was only 5, smiling guilelessly up at Shiro like he was just anyone else and not the CEO and Shiro adored him for it.

“And how are you, Ollie? It’s been a while,” Shiro asked, delighted as Ollie started to giggle.

“Yes, it’s been, it’s been long time. Are you better now?” Ollie asked, fumbling through his words in that way that was always so endearing in kids.

“I am, thank you for asking.” Shiro released Ollie’s hands and pat his head gently before he stood.

“We’re glad to see you back, Mr. Shirogane,” Nick smiled, beckoning Ollie back to him and behind the desk.

“It’s good to be back,” Shiro agreed, walking past security and towards the private elevators.

It occurred to him then that he was actually going to get away with this. He was going to get to his desk and do some work and _not_ think about Lance at all and it looked like no one was going to stop him. Shiro felt giddy, a little kid sneaking candy from a parent as he hustled forward. He was reaching for the button of the elevator when the illusion was shattered.

 “What are you doing here?”

Shiro sighed, looking down at the little illuminated elevator button he had managed to press before slowly turning around to find Keith standing there, arms crossed, a bag of take-away hooked around one elbow.  

“Keith, I was just—”

“Go _home,_ Shiro,” Keith barked, already trying to hustle him back through security and into the lobby, the smell of curry following them out of the hall.

The other receptionists were all very clearly giggling and tittering behind their hands, even as Nick tried his best to hush them in solidarity with Shiro.

“Keith, please,” Shiro tried, already knowing it was a lost cause.

“Nope.” Keith pushed at Shiro’s back, shoving him by fits and starts back to the large glass lobby doors.

Shiro glanced over his shoulder, trying to get even a word in. “Well can you at least have someone take my Audi to the garage? It’s not starting and…”

Keith stopped, his eyes narrowing. “What car did you drive? Not the Bugatti—

“No, I didn’t drive the Bugatti. I took the Tesla.”

After a long considering moment, Keith nodded, before once again resuming his physical expulsion of Shiro from the premises. “Fine, I’ll take the Audi in.”

“Keith, just get someone—”

“Shiro, go _home.”_

When Shiro finally looked up, he was officially being shoved out the door. He laughed, rolling his eyes lightly before finally turning to walk backwards under his own steam. “Yes, sir, CFO Keith, sir.”

Keith stuck his tongue out before flipping Shiro off and walking back into the building.

“Go call lover boy Lance,” Keith called, not looking back as the doors swung shut on a final gush of cool air-conditioned air.

And that was how Shiro found himself out on the front steps of his own building, his employees all coming in for their day parting around him like a river around a bolder. Most greeted him, but Shiro was gazing absently at his own hands.

He couldn’t go home, and going back inside was clearly out of the question. And even worse, when Shiro took his phone out of his pocket, his only missed call was a scam sales call from Minnesota.

And then the idea came to him. A terrible, awful, wonderful idea that he would likely regret later if it went anyway less than perfect. But he couldn’t think about that now.

The lucky thing about being a frequent flyer at the hospital, with a wing named after his family no less, was that he had almost every number on speed dial. So, it was really nothing at all to open his contacts and hit “call” on the direct line he needed.  

It took a couple rings, but Shiro finally heard one of the nurse’s voices on the other end of the line as the call connected: “Nurse’s Desk.”

“Um…hello, is uh…this is Takashi Shirogane,” Shiro started, suddenly realizing he had no idea what he was going to say and nearly tripping over his own tongue to get the words out.

To be honest, he had kind of expected Nurse McClain to answer, and he could be suave and ask for what he needed and well…now he was floundering…again.

“Oh, Mr. Shirogane! Is everything okay?” The nurse’s voice brightened, before dropping a little in concern.

“Yes! Yes, I was just…is Nurse McClain there?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before she very slowly said, “Sure, just a second.”

She didn’t put him on hold, so Shiro could hear the phone clatter as it was sat against the counter, then indistinct voices chatting very hurriedly before a long pause and then, “Mr. Shirogane?”

Taking a deep breath, Shiro steeled himself before speaking. “Nurse McClain…I have a bit of an odd question…”

What was the worst that could happen? She would say no? Although, now that Shiro thought about it, that was pretty bad all on its own.

-

For once in his life, Lance had the day off. No class, no training, nothing scheduled at the hospital, no instructors to answer to or doctors to shadow. It was just him and the silence of an empty house and the uncomfortable press of his own thoughts, not that he would get into that if he could help it.

He got to wake up in his briefs and a threadbare sweater and _stay_ that way and it was _bliss_ and that was what he would focus on. Mama had a shift and his sisters were on a school trip and it was just Lance and the Netflix password and a big pot of coffee to get him through a season 7 Frasier binge. He was going to put every effort into not throwing himself into a tizzy over when the exact right time was to text Takashi back without seeming desperate because if he had his way, he would have done it right then.

But also, maybe he wouldn’t have? Lance didn’t know anymore, his thoughts were...not entirely straight. There was Takashi, who he _would_ have texted right away, but then there was CEO Shirogane, or Shiro or…and this was why he hadn’t, because he just didn’t _know._

Lance physically shook himself as he felt his thoughts start to spiral. He couldn’t get into that now. He needed a Scarlet O’Hara frame of mind about this, or otherwise he would go crazy. So, Fraser it was, the theme song familiar and nostalgic from years as a child watching it on late night TV when he should have been sleeping, and there was nothing else on because mama didn’t believe in cable until he was well into his teens. Fraser solved a lot of problems, in Lance’s opinion.

He was knee deep in a stack of microwave pancakes and syrup and a giant cup of coffee when the doorbell rang only two episodes into the binge. Normally, Lance would have let it ring, convinced it was some package for his sister, except the bell rang again.

And then a knock.

And then another ring.

And finally, “Lance, I know you’re home.”

Which, would have been creepy except Lance _knew_ that voice…unbelievably, but he did. And the thing was, Lance didn’t even need to question how he knew where Lance lived. If meddling had been an Olympic sport, his mama would have been a 10 time gold medal champion.

Except, when Lance opened the door, he didn’t see Takashi. Instead, there was a bunch of white roses and lilies in his face, obscuring anything but the edges of the blue sky over head and a muscular hand gripping the stems. It took a bit of shuffling, the paper crackling as the flowers were shifted into the crook of Takashi’s prosthetic, but eventually his face appeared, the same once Lance had seen in the hospital day in and out for weeks.

The smile on Takashi’s face was a little sheepish now though and Lance was struck simultaneously by the fact that he wished he had already called and the idea that he simply could not reconcile this man with the one on the tv screen.

“Hello,” Shiro offered, blushing a little as Lance continued to gape at him, unaware that Lance was suddenly feeling incredibly guilty that he had given any credence to the news at all.  

The brown butcher paper surrounding the flowers was crushed and crumpled where Takashi’s hands had clasped them while he waited for Lance to open the door. It was rustic and charming and Lance felt his knees go weak.

“Hi,” Lance grinned finally, reaching out for the flowers to relieve Shiro of his burden.

Shiro gave them up gratefully. The flowers were fragrant and gorgeous, the arrangement unusual and yet Lance loved them all the more for it. Lance buried his face into the bouquet, his world petals and greenery until he finally peaked up over the edge of a lily to see the clear pleasure in Shiro’s eyes.

“Would you like to come in?” Lance offered, stepping back automatically as Shiro hastened forward, both a little embarrassed by the eagerness.

“I know I should have waited for you to call but…” Shiro started, trailing off uncertainly as Lance closed the door behind them, the foyer warm and inviting and shrouding them in semi-darkness.   

“No, it’s…it’s fine,” Lance flushed, gesturing for Shiro to follow him into the kitchen and to take a seat at the little wooden table there.

Takashi, or…maybe it was Shiro, he seemed…so different here, in Lance’s mama’s kitchen. He seemed more confident then in the hospital, his eyes clear and focused on Lance as he watched him from the chair. He was lounging a little, one leg straight out, observing Lance who was leaned up against the counter, still holding the flowers to his chest like a teddy.

For a second his brain tried to make a comparison again to the CEO Shirogane on the news but that wasn’t right either. This man was gazing sweetly at Lance, his lips parted in a slightly anxious smile, fingers tapping nervously on the table next to the cracked salt shaker Lance had broken when he was 17 and his mama never replaced.

It was soothing and wild to see Takashi here and yet it made it even more clear that Lance couldn’t picture this man being cold hearted in anyway. He didn’t know what to think anymore and it left him feeling off-centered, for more than one reason. Lance thought, for just a second, that he almost missed the quiet of the hospital, where things were uncomplicated, but that was selfish. And besides, he liked this Shiro, despite all of the uncertainty. He was vibrant, a light that filled up the room and took up all of Lance’s focus. Shiro was larger then life.

Unsure of what to do, Lance looked down at the flowers again. There was a ladybug crawling on one of the leaves, oblivious to Lance’s dilemma, like most of the world. “I uh…in the interest of full disclosure. I saw you on the news.”

Shiro sighed, and Lance looked up again to see him rubbing his hands roughly through his hair. Lance half expected him to look closed off at this, but when his hands came down, he looked more resigned then anything.

“Is that why you didn’t…I can imagine what they said about me.” Shiro gave him a rueful smile, clearly testing the waters.

Biting his lip, Lance sat the flowers on the counter and took the chair beside Shiro. “I just thought…maybe you weren’t serious about me calling.”

Shiro shook his head, slowly but emphatically as he inched his hand closer to Lance’s on the table top.

“I was serious, Lance. I think you’re smart and gorgeous and hilarious and I would really like to take you out sometime, preferably a place where I’m not hooked up to an IV.” It was a feeble attempt at a joke, but Lance laughed despite himself.

He wanted to look Shiro in the eye, but his gaze was tracked on the space between their fingers, watching it grow less and less as Lance did nothing to pull his hand away.

“I’ve been…I mean I really want…” Lance stopped, seemingly at a loss as Shiro’s thumb hesitantly moved to cover his pinkie.

“Please, give me a chance,” Shiro whispered, seemingly emboldened as Lance continued to allow Shiro to cover his hand with his. “I can’t explain it but, this feels right. Doesn’t it feel right to you?”

Slowly, hesitantly, Lance started to nod. Yes, it did. Unexplainably, _weirdly,_ it felt right. “Okay.”

Lance chanced a look up and Shiro was grinning. “Okay?”

“Yes, okay,” Lance laughed, flipping his hand slowly so their palms would touch.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /cough/ um...hello? Sorry for such a long delay and a small chapter to come back to! I fell into a bit of a rut and a busy season all at once and before I knew it two months had passed. Please enjoy this heith chapter and also my plans for the next chapter are a shance date so please look forward to that!

The garage Shiro normally took his car to was closed, because of course it was. The annoyingly perky voice on the machine advised him to call a tow to “any one of the qualified mechanics in the area” which was deeply unhelpful, and exactly what Keith was doing anyway as he tapped his foot and watched for AAA to show up at Shiro’s building.

What was Keith's life right now but being a soccer mom to Shiro and the company? He was doing about 100 jobs and it was running him ragged and he could feel his blood pressure rising every day and thundering in his ears.

Except…except that wasn't fair and Keith knew it. He knew that if he would let him, Shiro would more than happily take his duties back on. But, Keith just wasn’t willing to give in yet.

The thing was, while he didn't want Shiro to see it, this whole thing had rattled him. Shiro’s heart had always been a problem, it was something they dealt with. But, that night, Keith really had thought it was the end. He had been forced to face the idea of a world where he would have lived without Shiro, the one constant in his life, and that just…well…it wasn’t an option.

Keith had felt so helpless, riding along in the ambulance, Shiro out of capacity and in the way of a danger that Keith couldn’t just throw his weight at or write a check for and fix. He knew that the whole thing had made him grumpy and waspish. Thankfully, Shiro knew it and understood and once again took care of Keith even though Shiro was the one who needed to be looked after. So, Keith played mother and complained about it and threw fits but in the end, it made him feel useful, like he was helping Shiro even a fraction of the amount Shiro had helped him over the years.

So, Keith took a deep breath and pressed on. There wasn’t another way.

When the tow truck finally arrived and ferried the Audi away, it was with a resigned Keith nestled in the passenger seat. The cab of the truck smelt like chewing tobacco and sunflower seeds and Keith settled into the familiar scent he had grown up with and a companionable silence with the old driver.

It was a quick ride and Keith had only started to tentatively engage the driver in conversation when the garage came into view. There was a flurry of activity already happening when the truck pulled up onto the driveway as a family exited what looked like the garage office followed by a man in overalls.

“I’ll let you out here,” The truck driver told him, Keith nodding absently as he signed the clipboard he was offered and hopped out to wait for the guy to unhook Shiro’s car.

“And you're sure it's okay? We can really pay next month and--”

“Please, it's fine!” the guy who had followed them out said.

He was watching the family with a broad good-natured grin as he shook the hands of the parents over and over again.

“How are you ever going to make money like this?” the woman scolded even as she hugged the man gratefully.

“I'll get by, don’t worry. Just come by tomorrow and I'll have your car ready.”

Keith watched curiously as the man continued to wave the family off, directing them to a lot of rentals with that same broad easy smile. There was something warm to it that had Keith blushing when the man finally turned to look at him.

Startled at being caught off guard, Keith felt a frown pull at the edges of his mouth.

“Do you work here?” Keith barked, immediately wincing at how harsh his voice sounded.

 “I do,” he laughed, gesturing towards the oil stained overalls and the little embroidered name tag on his chest.

“Ah, right.” Keith bit his lip, frowning hard even harder as he read the name.

 _Hunk._  

“Can I help you?” Hunk asked curiously.

He moved closer to Keith as the tow truck driver finally found his way back over and handed Keith the keys to Shiro’s Audi.

“Thanks,” Keith mumbled awkwardly, even more unsure now of where to direct his attention.

Thankfully the tow guy was seemingly just as awkward as Keith and waved once without a word before heading off.

With the crunch of the wheels on gravel fading behind them with the retreat of the truck, Keith became suddenly and painfully aware that they were standing in an unbearably awkward silence as Hunk waited for Keith to take the lead. “Yes, right. My boss's car is, well he says it wouldn’t start so I…brought it…here.” Keith gestured lamely around him.

He hated talking about things he didn’t understand more than anything, and cars were absolutely on that list.

Hunk nodded like this wasn't the first time he had heard this exact story though. “There's an Audi dealership up the road that may know more than me.”

“What?” Keith stared at him blankly.

He hadn't fucked up this interaction that badly had he?

“You said it's your boss's car right? Usually those big money types want it taken to the dealership. I just don’t want you to get in trouble.” Hunk seemed embarrassed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

Keith actually laughed at that, a bark that burst out of him startling them both. Shiro being described as a big money type and getting Keith in trouble? Not likely…

“No, he likes local garages.” Keith said instead, recovering from his outburst.

He figured it was better then trying to dive into the complex dynamic that was working for your childhood friend.  

Hunk shrugged, coming even closer to speak more comfortably with Keith. There was a hint of warmness in his eyes now after Keith surprised him, his lips quirked up even more as he grinned down at Keith.

At this range it was clear that he wasn’t _much_ taller than Keith, but he was bigger in that same way Shiro was. He just took up space by the virtue of existing and Keith found himself flushing pink as Hunk came further into his orbit. It wasn’t too close to be anything but professional but Keith still felt his insides squirm.  

“Let’s start again. Hello, I'm Hunk.” Hunk offered warmly, offering his hand for Keith to shake.

“Um…hello,” Keith gulped, taking Hunk’s hand in his after only a moment’s hesitation. “Keith.”

“Well Keith, let’s see if I can help you.”

-

When Keith finally left the auto shop in a cab half an hour later his face was still flushed. His skin was warm when he pressed the backs of his hands to his cheeks to check, setting him off even more. Thankfully the cab driver didn’t say a word, accepting the money with a nod and letting Keith out at the gate of Shiro’s complex.

Hoping to give himself a reprieve, Keith sat for a long minute in Shiro’s garage instead, hiding behind the Bugatti and trying to calm himself down, breathing in the faint oil and gasoline scent.

Hunk had been nothing but professional and Keith had been…well Keith had been a mess. Flushing and mumbling answers to Hunk’s basic questions like he didn’t spend half his life ordering people around.

 _“Here, why don’t I take a look and give you a call later?”_ Hunk asked after Keith shrugged over yet another question, handing over a slip of paper with his number written on it.

Keith had taken the number without thinking, nodding his head slightly and letting Hunk call him a cab. He had wanted to say something, to start a conversation, but his tongue felt heavy and leaden in his mouth. No matter how many times Keith had breathed in to speak, no words had come out. And then eventually, the cab had been there and Keith had lost the opportunity.

He had looked back out of the window after the car had driven a bit, just as the cab was about to turn the corner out of sight. Hunk had still been standing there, looking at the Audi with his hands on his hips.

Keith bit his lip hard in embarrassment at the memory and felt the metallic taste of blood drip into his mouth.

-

When Keith opened the door to Shiro’s house, he dropped the keys on the entryway table and wandered into the kitchen. Everything was quiet until Keith heard a loud, protracted and emphatic groan.

“Shiro?”

Another groan, this one quieter, and somehow even more pathetic.  When Keith went into the living room it was to find Shiro laying on his back on the couch, his hands covering his face.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m an idiot,” Shiro groaned.

Keith snorted. “Sometimes.”

“Hey!” Shiro yelped, dropping his hands from his face.

Keith stopped and studied Shiro for a moment, his eyes racking over where Shiro had pulled his hair enough to make it stand up on end against the fabric of the couch. “What did you do?”

Shiro paused, the heels of his hands returning to his face to press hard into his eye sockets. “I went to his house.”

Keith stopped, trying to process what Shiro had just said. “You what? To… _Lance’s_ house?”

Shiro winced. “I…called his mom at the hospital—”

“Shiro.”

“got his address—”

“ _Shiro._ ”

“—and went to his house.”

“Holy _shit,_ ” Keith breathed, somewhere in the space between a laugh and a groan.

There was nothing to say to that, Shiro continuing to press so hard against his eyes Keith really feared he may just pop them into the back of his skull.

“Well, did you at least get him to agree to a date?” Keith asked, thoughtful as he settled on the couch beside Shiro’s outstretched legs.

He waited, watching as Shiro’s lips curled up into a smile and the hands dropped down to his stomach. “Yes, actually. I did.”


End file.
